MisCommunicator
by Blynneda
Summary: Parody of "The Communicator." Rated for excessive use of one particular word.


The ubiquitous Author's Notes (is that even a proper usage of "ubiquitous?"  I don't know if I've ever actually used that in a sentence before):  For anyone who cares, yes, I skipped over "The Seventh," no, that's not permanent, I will go back and do it.  If you'd like an explanation, I've had a couple tests in the past couple weeks, not mind bogglingly difficult, but they require studying.  And then the site (ff.n, that is) was down last week (for me, at least) and I couldn't post my wonderful Spock/McCoy story—read it!  It's delightful.  More "The Shirt" coming, also, whenever…

Oh, yes, and I'm "working" on a totally different project, a comic book for one of my classes (don't you wish you could draw comics in your classes?) and I really should plug away at that.  It's great, I'll tell you about it sometime.  But now, on to the show…

_Is it just me, or does Malcolm look funny in this episode?  I dunno, maybe he's got a weird haircut or something.  Oh yes, and sorry for the length.  I just hope I've packed twice as much humor into this._

Mis Communicator 

Set the scene:

Our heroes have apparently visited another culture whose only distinguishing characteristic is a funny forehead.  Where do they find them all?  This is getting worse than TOS—at least _they_ had the excuse of money—paint someone green, then, at least.  For God's sake!

Hoshi:  I don't think I've ever walked so much in my life!

Archer:  Why'd I have to pick the hilly city?  We're used to cushy starships!

Reed:  I didn't mind at all.  But then, I'm a bit of a masochist.  The architecture alone was amazing…

Archer:  The _architecture_?  I never knew you were into that.

Reed:  Well, I admire buildings just before I smash them.

Hoshi:  I liked the temple.

They all peel off their elaborate costumes.

Reed:  Since this was a totally new experience for me and all, can I write the report to Starfleet?

Archer:  I didn't even realize you were literate.

Hoshi:  I could write the report in the native language of the city's inhabitants.

Archer:  I can't think of a better man for the job.  A better woman would be Hoshi…and I'm too lazy to do it.  I've got Captaining to do.  Actually, maybe I'll let Travis write it.  He doesn't do much.

Reed:  But, sir, he wasn't even on the away team.

Archer:  No, he wasn't, was he?

(_insert scene with Travis hunched over a desk trying to make up valuable information about a place he's never visited.   "Um…mostly…harm-less."_)

Phlox:  Welcome back.  I'm going to watch you undress from out here.

Archer:  Can we put the decon gel on?

Phlox:  No need.  You've all checked out clean.

Archer:  Can we anyway?  Well, except Malcolm, I mean.

In either a new procedure, or one never before shown, they put their equipment in a little shoebox.

Reed:  I liked the guy at the political rally.  Chancellor What's-his-face.  He reminded me of Winston Churchill, my personal hero from 200 years ago.  (_pauses, feels himself up_)  Oh, shit.

Archer:  What's wrong?

Reed:  My communicator.

Archer:  What about it?  Is it broken?

Reed:  It's gone.

Archer:  Oh, you dumbass.

ACT 1:  After the longest teaser yet, the exciting decision to return to the planet to retrieve the communicator is made.  Because it's one of only four that they actually own.  So they really, _really_ need it back.

Reed crawls around on the floor frantically looking for it.  Everyone laughs at him.  A couple others half-heartedly join in the search.

Reed:  I can't find it.  But I'm too manly to cry about it.  What about the launch bay crew?

Archer:  I talked to them already, dumbass.

Hoshi (_coming out of pod_):  It's not in here, either.

Reed:  I feel like such a dumbass.

Archer:  Yes, you are.  When did you last have it?

Reed:  The communicator?

Archer:  No, a smart ass.  _Yes_, the communicator.

Reed:  Oh, well, when we first entered the city.

Archer:  Well, that was early on.  It could be anywhere…in the city.

Hoshi:  I might be able to narrow it down, using the technologically advanced computer tracking system.

Archer:  Okay.

Everyone massed around the advanced computer tracking system.  Who might be running the ship in this time is undetermined.

Hoshi:  I've found it.  It's somewhere within the city.

Archer:  Can you do a little better than that?

Hoshi:  All right, I'll try.  Of course I can, I was just playing with you.

Trip:  Innit there a war brewin' down there?

Archer:  Maybe, we couldn't figure that part out?  There were newspapers and stuff, but we couldn't read them or anything like that.  And TV.

T'Pol:  Perhaps it would have been a wiser idea to observe from a distance in such a tense situation.

Archer:  Thanks for bringing that up now.  Didn't we go through this in "Civilization?"  It's more fun the way humans do it.  I might get to kiss an alien chick this way.

T'Pol:  We must get that technology back.  It's imperative.  And critical.  We can't contaminate a pre-warp culture, because obviously they have the intelligence of dirt.  They couldn't handle the concept of aliens.  Unlike, of course, humans. (_snort_)

Hoshi:  Here we go.  I got it.

Reed:  Oh, I remember that part from above.  The fountains I took a leak in are there, and the tavern across the street.  They had some good Romulan ale.

Archer:  _Romulan_?  T'Pol, you've got the bridge—I think you get to be captain more than I do—and tell Dr. Phlox he has to make us up again.  Especially me.

Reed:  I really don't see what all the fuss is about, anyway.  Kirk didn't get mad at Bones when he left a communicator behind.

Archer:  Who?  Come along, dumbass, we've got a job to do.

Trip (_trails after like a puppy_):  Can I go?

Archer:  No.

Trip:  But I haven't been in too much of the episodes lately.

Archer:  Too bad.  Find something to do up here.  Malcolm's our new star.  After me, of course.

Trip:  Oh, man.  Maybe I'll go fool around with som'un dangerous.

In pod:

Archer:  Your feet ready for another hike, dumbass?

Reed:  Not really, but I guess I have to, don't I?

Archer:  Got that right, dumbass.  Here we go.

Reed:  Captain, I'm really sorry.  I'll face whatever punishment you want.

Archer:  How 'bout I send you back home?

Reed:  No!  Not that!  Anything but that!  I'd be off the show!

Beep!  Beep! 

Reed:  Three military aircraft off the starboard side.  They probably can't see us.  But let's go below their visual threshold.  They can't see us if they look down, after all.

The pod sets down with a bright spotlight on the trees.  How no one notices this is a great mystery.  Shuttlepods aren't exactly noted for their subtlety in noise volume or visibility.

In tavern:

Archer (_to everyone_):  Hi!  We're back again!

Reed (_crawls around on floor again, surreptitiously, of course_):  I don't see it.  I'm sure it was here.

Archer:  Is this the table?

Reed:  I'm certain.  How many tables are in here?  Four?  Kind of hard to mistake.

Barkeep:  Welcome back!  Guess you really like to drink, huh?  Whatchu want?

Archer:  Could you give us a few minutes?  Your choices are staggeringly vast.

Barkeep:  Sure.  Where's your girlfriend?

Archer:  Whose?

Barkeep (_prodding_):  The babe you had with ya.

Archer:  Oh, Hoshi.  Um…I'm surprised you remember her.

Barkeep (_leering_):  Yeah, well, I remember you don't I?  I'da done her.

Reed:  We killed her.

Archer:  Yeah, and, uh…ate her.

Reed (_under breath_):  Good cover.

Barkeep (_hesitates; there are laws, after all_):  Oh.  Interesting.  I've got a new shipment of Allakas malt in the back.

Archer:  Sounds good.  (_barkeep leaves_)  What the hell is that?

Reed:  Damned if I know.  It's alcoholic, though.

Barkeep goes over to table with three men obviously dressed as soldiers who, apparently, have just been waiting for these commie bastards to return.

Barkeep (_murmurs_):  That's the spies.  (_soldiers glare menacingly_)

Reed:  I've found it.  It's in a room.  Off that corridor.

Archer:  Were you in there?

Reed:  No.  Oh, wait, yes.  I think it's the lavatory.

They go into corridor.  Someone shouts, "Hey!  You're not authorized personnel!" 

Reed:  There are two people inside.  I think they're doing the nasty.  Of course, I couldn't tell there were people in there while I was sitting at the table.

Archer:  In a _bath_room?

Reed (_shrugs_):  They're aliens.

They go back, 3 Soldiers get up and approach.  Archer and Reed take one look at each other and decide to attack, rather than go about this in a reasonable, well-thought-out manner.  Archer picks up the nearest weapon, a table, and hits them with it.  Malcolm, being the skilled tactical officer he is, immediately gets knocked out.  They are eventually dragged away.

Soldier #1:  Does this belong to you?  (_holding up the Lost Communicator_)

Archer:  Why, yes!  That's what we've been looking for!

Soldier #1:  Okay, here ya go!

I'm just kidding.  Of course it didn't happen that way.  The show would only last fifteen minutes.  Then the ending would run something like:

_Reed:  Golly, that was an adventure!_

Archer:  Try not to do that next time!  We might have a tougher time getting it back! 

Instead:

Soldier #1:  Does this belong to you?

Archer: …

Soldier #1:  What is it?

Archer:  I don't know.

Soldier #1:  Doesn't the other one talk?

Reed:  No.

3 Soldiers frisk them.  They all enjoy it thoroughly (okay, that was a lame joke.  Sorry)

Soldier #1:  What's this?

Archer:  Don't touch that!  It's a gun!

Soldier #1:  What kind of weapon is this?

Archer:  I think that's fairly obvious.

Soldier #1:  Where's General Gosis?

Soldier #2:  Do you think we should reveal that kind of information in front of these two spies?

Soldier #3 (_being a brown-nosing yes-man_):  He's on the eastern border!

Soldier #1:  Send him a communiqué—is that French?  We got us some enemy spies.

Archer:  We're not _enemy_ spies.  We're alien spies.

Soldier #1:  There's a-gonna be a hangin' tonight!

Archer:  Does this mean we don't get our communicator back?

Reed:  I think we've just made things worse.

Archer:  No shit, Sherlock.

ACT 2:  T'Pol et. al realize that something is wrong, and try to figure out what to do.

Trip:  I think som'un is wrong.

T'Pol:  The captain probably got himself in trouble again.  Why _do_ we let him go on away missions?  He always manages to screw them up.

Hoshi:  Yeah, well, Malcolm isn't exactly a shining bulb himself here.

Trip:  We should hail them.  Hail, Archer!

Hoshi:  If they're in a public place, that might draw attention.  Especially considering it's a communicator they're looking for.

T'Pol:  We'll have to take that risk.

Hoshi:  I'm just a junior officer, but isn't that _exactly_ what we need to avoid, at all possible costs?

T'Pol:  Just do your job.

Hoshi (_shrugs_):  Oo-kay.

T'Pol:  T'Pol to Captain Archer.

Hoshi:  Wait.  I haven't hailed them yet.

T'Pol:  Captain, please respond.

Nobody, not even the captain, responds.  Everyone exchanges "worried" looks.

T'Pol:  Close the channel.

Hoshi:  Oh, it's been closed the entire time.

Trip:  Didja find out where they are, at least?

Hoshi:  Here, look at this map.  They're in this little blobby area, which is far from the tavern.

Trip:  How could they get that far away in such a short time?

Hoshi:  Gee, I dunno.  They took a taxi?

T'Pol:  Isolate their biosigns.  I want to know where they are, as if that would do us any good.

Hoshi:  There's a lot of people there.  That might take longer than the rest of our time allotted for this scene.

T'Pol:  Well, do what you can.  We'll just have to come back to it, is all.

Trip:  We could drop down lower, give me som'un to do.

T'Pol:  No, why bother?  They'll never notice us at this distance.

At a large military compound like the Pentagon, if it were asymmetrical and made up of 7 or 8 sides:

Archer and Reed are inexplicably imprisoned together, to allow them time to get their story straight.  Also, it makes for a more interesting scene than just Archer pacing around or Reed rubbing his feet.  Guard walks by with phase rifle.

Archer:  Why are you playing with your feet?

Reed:  I'm a bit of a wuss, you see.

Archer:  We walked for 15 minutes before we got caught!

Reed:  Blisters are blisters.  I'm not used to doing anything but sit on my bum cleaning phase pistols.

Archer:  That's what you get for losing expensive Starfleet equipment…dumbass.

Reed (whispers so the guard standing ten feet away can't hear):  I lost my communicator first.  And now, we've lost another.  Then, we also lost a phase pistol, two scanners, a pair of pants, not to mention my shoes…

Archer:  Did I ask you for a running inventory?

Reed:  I guess it's a good thing I didn't bother bringing another communicator.  Then it'd be three…and you didn't bring a phase pistol, otherwise it'd be two of those…

Archer:  Will you shut up?  (in stage whisper)  I hope they don't find our Shut-tle-POD!

Reed:  If they think we're spying for the "Alliance"—a very positive term for a rebel faction—maybe we should tell them the truth…

Archer:  What, that we're aliens?  Pshaw!  Who'd believe that?  Certainly not these losers.  They don't even have nuclear weapons yet.  Obviously they know nothing about the real world.  Or universe.

Reed:  We could try.

Archer:  Aliens from outer space?  We don't know how they'd react.

Reed:  Well, they're not reacting exactly pleasantly with the spy business.

3 Soldiers approach—these are the only 3 Soldiers in the entire Pentagon.  No one else will do.

Soldier #1:  Walk this way.

Archer:  You mean that literally?

Reed:  Can I put my shoes back on?

Soldier #1:  No.

In The Room:

Soldier #4:  What is this beautiful device?  It's like a woman, I caress it. (he really loves his guns)  Which of you is the Captain?

Reed & Archer (pointing at the other):  He is.

Reed:  Really.  He is.  I'm Tennille.

Soldier #4:  A funny thing happened on the way to the Pentagon…This one thingamajig made a funny noise, so I opened it.  (God knows how I figured that out)  Surprisingly, it didn't explode or anything, but someone named T'Pol sounded very concerned about her captain.

Archer:  That's strange, she's a Vulcan.  She's not supposed to sound concerned.

Reed:  It's because she's in love with him.  Not me.

Soldier #4:  So, the Alliance is pretty pathetic, they're getting spies from the military now.

Archer:  Where else would they get them?  Nurseries?

Soldier #4 (leaning in):  I suppose you're the captain of a pleasure boat?  The S.S. Minnow, perhaps? 

Archer:  Sometimes it sure feels that way.  My, your forehead wrinkles are very pronounced.

Soldier #4:  This…communicator…what's its frequency, range?

Archer:  Those are technical terms I don't understand.

Soldier #4:  How about this computing device?  How does it work?

Reed:  You could try turning it on first.

Soldier #4:  And you!  Why do you talk in that strange accent?

Reed:  Well, I'm British.

Soldier #1 smacks Archer upside the head.

Archer:  What was that for?!

Soldier #1:  He said he's British.

Soldier #4:  We don't really want to hurt you.  We only want to kill you.  But we need you to cooperate.

Archer:  I can't help you.  I'm dizzy.

Soldier #4:  I hope you enjoyed the rally this morning.

Archer:  There weren't any monkeys.  Not what I expected at all.

Soldier #4:  Strange, isn't it?  That you show up when Chancellor Kultarey is in town.

Reed:  Hoshi said that was pronounced "Kol-TA-rey."

Soldier #4:  Did you want to assassinate him?  We're vaguely aware of the ancestral claims you have on our city.  It's a bit like Jerusalem.

Archer:  Huh?  We don't know what you're talking about.

Soldier #4:  So, this T'Pol.  Where is she?  I'd like to meet her.  Is this the same babe you had with you at the tavern?

Reed:  A different babe, actually.  We have two.

Soldier #1 gets to play "bad cop" again.  Smacks them around.

Archer:  Ahh!  Not in the forehead!

Soldier #4:  Hey, let me see that!  (pulls it off)  Why, this is nothing more than a strip of latex cosmetics!  You guys have funny foreheads!

Soldier #2:  They've been surgically altered to look…different from us.  For some reason.  Even though they're spies.

Soldier #4:  What sense would that make?  Shouldn't spies look as much in place in their surroundings as possible?

Soldier #2:  Shut up.  Oh, wait, you're the aforementioned General Gosis, I guess.  Shut up, sir.  Hey, this guy's blood is red.

Reed:  What's wrong with that?  What color is yours?

Archer:  I know someone with green blood.

Soldier #4:  Take them to Temec.

Soldier #2:  The place or the guy?

Soldier #4 (evil grin):  Give them…an examination.

On the ship, the only remaining stars (except Phlox, who does nothing of this sort):

Hoshi:  Here they are.  In this identical portion of the map.

Travis:  That looks scary.  Maybe they got caught.

Trip:  Well, we could take Shuttlepod Two, put it here, and get them, and then leave.

Hoshi:  You know, we really should think up a name for those pods.  "One" and "Two" are boring.

T'Pol:  What if you get caught?  That would affect the evolution of this planet.

Trip:  Because the technology they already got has no effect whatsoever.

T'Pol:  Obviously not.  It's a big risk.

Trip:  Well, I say, risks are our business!

T'Pol:  Tough noogies.

Trip:  How 'bout we do som'un so they don't see us comin'?  Remember that Suliban Cell ship we got?

Hoshi:  The one from "Shockwave II?"  I thought we got rid of that.

Trip:  Naw, the one from the pilot, over a year ago.  I been workin' on it in my free time, y'know, the 6 days we aren't on, and summer hiatus.  We could set up the Cloaking Device—

T'Pol:  I didn't know it had a Cloaking Device.

Trip:  Well, it does.  All Suliban have Cloaking Devices.  Anyway, I set that up, we go grab our people (Captain and Malcolm), and leave.

Hoshi:  Isn't that remarkably like the plan we just suggested?

Trip:  Yeah, but no one sees a thing.

T'Pol:  Except you reaching out and grabbing them.  And the fact that they're missing.  Can't miss that.

Trip:  Details, details.

T'Pol:  Okay.  Do it fast.  And take Travis.  He's worthless otherwise.

Trip:  Do I have to?

T'Pol:  We should monitor the communiqués from the compound.  We might find out when they're planning on killing the Captain and Tennille—er, Reed.

Hoshi:  There's that word again.  Is this Vocab of the Day?

At Cell ship:

Trip:  I don't get it.  I did this technical thing, and that…so why can we see it?

Travis:  Have you tried turning it on?

Trip:  Oh.

Travis:  Maybe this isn't the Cloaking Device.

Trip:  But everything else is identified.  It must be!  Unless it's som'un else.

Travis:  This would be easier if there was a button marked "Cloak."

Trip:  Well, the Suliban don't speak English, do they?  Besides, it's prob'ly cloaked.  Hmm.  Let's try this…

Zapping noise:  Trip gets blasted halfway across the room by "waves."

Travis:  Are you okay?

Trip (gasping for breath):  Sure.  Hey, lookit that!  Half of that thing disappeared!

Travis:  Cool.  Wait, that's not all.  Your arm's off!

Trip:  Oh, that?  It's only a scratch.

ACT 3:  Trip, in a dramatic attempt to get more airtime, has made part of his arm disappear.  Now, T'Pol won't notice when he sidles up behind her and—

Oh, better get back to the show…

Phlox:  So, what's the problem?

Trip:  Hard to say.  Where's my hand?

Phlox:  Oh, that's right!  Humans have two, don't they!

Trip:  What's the scanner say?

Phlox:  Not much.  Unfortunately, I don't have a degree in quantum physics—it'd come in so handy—but I think you got hit with some particle radiation from the Cloaking Device.

Trip:  That don't make any sense.  You're talkin' like it's magic invisibility dust, and I thought this cloak worked on, I dunno, some kinda physics principles.  Y'know, light refraction, that kinda thing.

Phlox (shrugs):  Like I said, no degree.

Trip:  So will I stay like this forever?

Phlox:  Probably not.  These kind of special effects are quite pricey, you know.

Trip:  Well, I can't work like this!

Phlox:  Try wearing a new uniform.  And a glove.

Trip:  If the cloaking device works like that, all you'd have to do is spray paint on it, and you could see it.  That's not very special.

Phlox:  It'd be fun to wear that uniform sometime later, wouldn't it?

Back at the Pentagon:  Playing with guns (don't try this at home!)

Soldier #4 (shoots phaser):  Wow!

Soldier #1:  Some kind of coherent energy pulse.

Soldier #4:  Good thing it's not incoherent.

Soldier #1:  I thought this was only theoretical.

Soldier #4:  I guess the Alliance, a small group of rebels, managed to figure this out.

Soldier #1:  Yeah, I've been thinking.  Does that make sense to you?  Lemme try.  Look, there's another setting!  I bet it's "kill."  (blammo)

Soldier #4:  Cool!  If the Alliance has these…yeeks.  We're screwed.  Keep these under guard at all times.  Don't leave them sitting out on a table where anyone can pick them up.

Soldier #1:  Okay.

Guy from Stargate SG-1 (aka "Temec") walks up.

Soldier #4:  What'd you find?

GFSSG1:  Take a look-see.

Soldier #4:  Whoa.

GFSSG1:  Our prisoners belong to another species.  They must be aliens.

The aliens are brought in.

Soldier #4:  You guys are pretty effed up on the inside.  Extra kidney—

Reed (keeps a running commentary going to himself):  So we can pee more.

Soldier #4:  Lacking four thoracic vertebrae—

Reed:  Makes us a bit shorter.

Soldier #4:  Whatever that big blob is…

Reed:  Um, that could be our liver.  Or large intestine.

Soldier #4:  Spleen!  You have a spleen!

Archer:  If you don't have one, how do you have a word for it?

Soldier #4:  And your blood is based on iron, a toxic element.

Archer:  How'd you get the fundamentals of technology, then?  Didn't you have an Iron Age?

Soldier #4:  He has a theory about where you come from.  Outer space.

Archer (incredulously):  What?  Outer space?  Ridiculous!

Reed:  Wouldn't now be the time to cut our losses and deal with it?  They're apparently capable of believing in aliens.

Archer:  Shut up, dumbass.

GFSSG1:  So, where do you come from?

Soldier #4:  There must be a larger ship nearby.  Maybe in orbit.

Archer:  Damn, these guys are good!

Soldier #4:  What are you doing?  Did you contact the Alliance?!

Archer:  No!  No!  Don't hit me again!  Aliens…wow, you guys are nutso.

Soldier #4:  How come we didn't find out about you?

Archer (smugly):  We're smart, that's why!  And we have technology beyond your wildest dreams!

Soldier #4:  What about your freaky anatomy?

Reed:  We've been…genetically enhanced.

Soldier #4:  En-hahnced?  What the hell's that mean?

Reed:  We're immune to chemical and biological weapons.

Soldier #4:  You have those, too?  Ahh!

Soldier #1:  They've created the perfect soldier.

Soldier #4:  How many of you are there?

Archer:  Can't you count?  There's two of us sitting here.

Solider #4:  What about the girl?

Archer:  Oh, she didn't last.  Back to the drawing board for that one.

Soldier #4:  And the devices?

Archer:  Yep, all prototypes.

Soldier #4:  Take them back to the cell.  But don't bother to handcuff them or anything.  (turns to #1 and GFSSG1)  What do you think?  Do you believe them?

Soldier #1:  Sure.  I think it's plausible.  More than that alien b.s.  And they are spies, after all, noted for their honesty.

GFSSG1:  You've got to be kidding.  We should suddenly believe them when they've been silent up to now?

Soldier #4:  Oh, why not?  We're only killing them, anyway.  And as long as they're prototypes…

GFSSG1:  Can I take out their organs?  They'd be fun to play with.

Soldier #4:  Sure, why not?  I'll tell the prisoners.  I like talking to them.  Even though I'm a general and all, and that sort of thing is usually beneath me.  (shouts out)  Hey guys, we're gonna kill you now!

Soldier #1:  Let's send a communiqué to someone so if these highly advanced rebels are monitoring us, they'll know to come and save the spies.

Bridge:

Hoshi:  I've got a communiqué.  They've captured two enemy spies…They're going to kill them.

T'Pol looks very un-Vulcan-like shocked.

Hoshi:  Oh, never mind.  It's two different spies.  Not our spies.

Cell ship:  Trip and Travis with their guy/macho/techno talk.  No need to repeat it here.

Travis:  Well, most of it's invisible.  Maybe that's good enough.

T'Pol (enters scene hastily):  How soon can you launch?

Trip:  Well, we'll prob'ly be ready—

T'Pol:  Not soon enough.  Get ready now.

Trip:  I didn't even finish.

T'Pol:  They're going to die.  We have to go.  Hurry up.

Trip:  That sucks.  I guess we'll get it ready on the way down.  Invisible or not, this thing could take more of a beating than our pods.

T'Pol:  Then why haven't we been using it all along?

Trip (after a pause):  I dunno.

In prison:

Reed:  So, do you think we've totally screwed up their culture now?

Archer:  I don't think so.  Do you?

Reed:  We could try the ol' "upset stomach" trick (A/N:  Am I the only one totally missing the reference here?)

Archer:  That wouldn't work.  Even if we get out, we'd never escape, what with our freakishly mutant foreheads and all.  Genetic enhancements.  Very creative.

Reed:  Not that creative.  I stole it from the Suliban.

Archer:  Isn't that the scariest thing of all?  Now it's like they're us, and the Alliance is our scary mysterious enemies, the Suliban.  We could make a show about these guys now.  A spinoff.

Reed:  What do you think the Enterprise will do after we're…

Archer:  Dead?  Celebrate, maybe.  Or send down a few more guys who get caught and killed.  T'Pol will get everything back, eventually.  So there's no contamination.

Reed:  Yeah, too bad we've already done that.  Isn't it ironic?  Don't you think?  Giving our lives to protect people who want to kill us?

Archer:  How is that ironic?

Reed:  I'm not afraid.  I'm cool with dying.  I just hoped it would be in outer space.  In front of chicks.  Doing something heroic.

Archer:  At least they're not drowning you.  Hey, here's an idea:  what if we told them the truth?

Reed:  I said that 30 minutes ago.

Archer:  No, really!  We could show them the pod, take them up to the ship—it'd be fun!  I've been given lotsa lectures about cultural contamination, but T'Pol never said anything about sacrificing crewman for it.

Reed:  What?  Then what the bloody hell are we doing?

Archer:  They're going to call it the "Prime Directive."  We'll be the first humans to uphold it.  We'll be like martyrs.

Reed:  Maybe telling them would be a good thing!  They're at war…

Archer:  But they're not mature enough.  They haven't created enough weapons of mass destruction yet, let alone warp drives.

Reed:  What does that have to do with maturity?

Archer:  Duh, technology=progress=social complexity=maturity.  It's in a book somewhere.  (touches Reed in manly, comforting manner)  Sorry you won't be able to write that report.  It'd be kinda stupid now, "How I Screwed Up An Alien Culture" by Malcolm Reed.  Remember, we're doing the Right Thing!

Reed:  Stop touching me.  Wait, what if the Enterprise tried to save us?

Archer (pause, look at each other):  Nah, forget it.

Reed:  I still think they'll come.  Any moment now!

Archer:  Maybe after the commercial.

Will they come?  It's a good bet!  Maybe even that invisible hand will play a part!

ACT 4:  The dramatic rescue scene!  Will they be rescued, or will our heroes' numbers be cut down to 5?  Somebody must be due for a promotion—we could make Admiral Forrest a regular!

T'Pol:  Here we go.

Trip:  I think I shoulda gone down with them to begin with.

T'Pol:  We'll be there in two minutes.  We haven't missed them, have we?

Trip:  They'll never see us comin'!

--

Reed:  Well, we haven't been rescued.  Too bad.

Soldier #2:  On your feet!

Archer:  I am on my feet!

Soldier #2:  We don't have handcuffs, so we'll use these handy leather thongs.  All purpose. shove

--

Travis:  What was that?

Trip:  I didn't even know how to fly this a year ago.

Travis:  Weapons are activated.

Trip:  Well, shoot!  (Travis shoots)  What's goin' on?

Travis:  Oh, sorry.  That was a curse, wasn't it?

T'Pol:  Three military aircraft.  (the only three they have, apparently)

Travis:  We do have weapons.  And that's about it.  I say, fire away!

--

Soldier #4:  Last dance before the execution.  Sound familiar, Sam?

Archer:  My name is Archer now.

Reed:  We're going to be hanged?  

Soldier #4:  I thought I told you that already.

--

Meanwhile, Star Wars style firefight in the sky.  Pretty advanced aircraft who don't have nuclear power or anything.

Trip:  I think they saw us comin'.  Can you keep it steady?

Travis:  It'd be easier if they weren't firing on us.

Trip:  Maybe we should try askin' 'em nicely.

T'Pol:  I don't think we've evaded detection.  More contamination.

Trip:  I think we'da been better off not comin' here, then, huh?

And…they disappear.  That won't look strange, will it?

--

Archer:  He's my tactical officer.

Soldier #4:  He is?  Then we have nothing to fear from the Alliance.

Archer:  Really.  He'll tell you everything you want to know about them.

Reed:  Captain, don't bother now.  You know I'd just have to make stuff up.

Soldier #4:  We've decided you're aliens, after all.  And we're killing you anyway.  Just for fun.

Archer:  Now, what was that b.s. about dying for our principles?

And, just before they pull the switch (wouldn't that have been interesting, they get there seconds too late!  Maybe Phlox could try to fix their broken necks.  That would be a welcome twist ending.  Two-parter:  What happens?  Will they survive?  Will they wear neck braces for the rest of the season?  But, no, they go with the formulaic ending instead.  Get ready for a firefight.)

Soldier #1:  Hey, is that a hand in the middle of the air?  Whoa!

Short firefight.

Trip:  C'mon in!

Reed:  Sir!  The phase pistol!  Our equipment!

Archer:  Oh, yeah, that's what all this was about.  Well, since they told us exactly where they've been keeping it, I'll just be a sec.

Various Soldiers:  Ahh!  The Alliance is attacking us in our secure military base!

Enterprise crew:  Don't worry!  We're aliens!

Amazingly, nobody even gets shot, except all the well-trained soldiers, who are all stunned.  Except, of course, the general, aka Soldier #4.  Archer goes into a room guarded by two half-asleep guys facing the wrong direction (who apparently didn't hear the gunfire and explosions).

Archer:  Good, they're just sitting out on the table where they're supposed to be.  Not even locked away in a safe or anything.  One…two…three.  Great!  (dramatically runs back to the ship, even though everyone is stunned by now;  probably doesn't drop anything in his weaving/darting maneuvers)

Soldier #4:  Did I just see what I thought I saw?  What is the world coming to?

In Cell ship:

Reed:  Bit crowded in here.

T'Pol:  Is that your hand, Commander Tucker?

Trip (innocently):  Who, me?  I don't see nuttin'!

Travis:  Shuttlepod's right where you left it.

Archer:  Well, what do you expect?  Someone took it out for a spin?

Travis:  We'll be right there.

Archer (checking equipment):  Shoot.  I thought I had them all.  We're still missing a communicator.  Well, this ruins everything.  Should we go back for it?

Reed (feels his pockets again):  Oh, wait, here it is.  I had it the entire time.  Silly me.  And to think we almost got killed for that.

Archer:  Thanks, dumbass.

Trip:  Well, we handled that well, didn't we?

Archer:  And the lesson for today, kids:  We need to be more careful where we put our things!

Back on board:

T'Pol:  No inhabited planets ahead.

Archer:  Good.  Maybe we should avoid those for an episode or two.  Stick to our dramatic intraship episodes.

T'Pol:  Was there something else?

Archer:  I need your approval.  You took a risk, coming down to save us.

T'Pol:  Risks are our business.  When Vulcans first looked at the stars…(sorry, Tavia!)

Archer:  Well, anyway, I'm glad you did.  I'm too manly to die.  At least we got everything back.  And therefore, we didn't do any damage to the people.

T'Pol:  Perhaps I should call you a dumbass now.  What was up with that story about you being with the Alliance?  Now you've made them more paranoid than Cold War Earthers.

Archer:  And thanks to the Suliban ship, they think they have invisible aircraft.  Hmm, maybe that wasn't such a hot idea.

T'Pol:  Don't blame this on me.

Archer:  Malcolm doesn't really want to write the report now.  Could you do it?

T'Pol:  You were willing to sacrifice your life to protect them.

Archer:  Yeah, come to think of it, that was pretty stupid.

T'Pol:  I admire stupidity in a man.  It makes me feel smart.

Sickbay:

Trip:  But I still got a hole in my hand!

Phlox:  Maybe it'll play a role in a future episode.  Who knows!

Trip:  Well, if it doesn't, then this'll just be a completely pointless B-storyline.

And on that note, Finis.

Promo for next week:  Is it just me, or does this sound really dull?  MYSTERIOUS DISEASE!  Can the captain PILOT the SHIP by HIMSELF?!!  What will happen?  Will they ALL die?  Even Travis?  "An all-new Enterprise that will keep you guessing until the end!"  Guessing what?  Who gets to be the hero this week?  Why can't T'Pol pilot the ship?  She looks fine.  Here's my guess:  If you fall asleep in the middle, will you be able to successfully predict how it ended when you wake up?


End file.
